


Never Thought We'd Be This Way

by atlas_white



Category: Gaston (Bande Dessinée)
Genre: Ficlets, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_white/pseuds/atlas_white
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short stories about the relationship between Gaston Lagaffe and Léon Prunelle, and the day-to-day chaos that is their life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Gaston Lagaffe & Léon Prunelle - An Unexpected Gesture_

_"Rogntudjuuu!!"_

The sound echoes through the halls of the _Spirou_ office. Those who work at this office are very much used to it, but no matter how many times each day they hear it, they must always be ready for what it might mean-- after all, when Léon Prunelle shouts _"Rogntudju"_ , it means somebody somewhere is in a lot of trouble. 

And this time, as usual, that somebody is Gaston. 

Prunelle stands in his office, seething, his shoulders squared, his breathing rough and audible. There is a coffee stain on his white shirt, and the papers in his hands are ruined. He can't attend a meeting this way. 

And Gaston, coffee mug in hand, doesn't look as lackadaisical as he usually does. Oddly enough, though, he doesn't look scared of the other man's wrath, either. He looks.... _sorry_. 

Hastily, Gaston puts down the mug on the desk and takes the papers from Prunelle's hands. He starts to shake them out, hoping they aren't lost completely. 

Prunelle is just about to give him the earful of his life, finger raised, mouth open, when Gaston says, "Prunelle, I'm sorry." 

Prunelle freezes. He looks stunned. 

"You.... what?" He says. 

"I'm sorry?" Gaston repeats. He gets the paper as dry as it's gonna get before handing it back to Prunelle, who accepts them silently, flabbergasted. 

Gaston contemplates the other man for a moment, then reaches forward and buttons Prunelle's jacket up to his chest. 

"There." He says. "That'll hide the stain during your meeting. And I think your papers should still be legible, if nothing else." 

And honestly Prunelle has nothing else to say-- he finds he doesn't even feel angry anymore. 

"But.... but _why?_ " He asks finally. 

Gaston shrugs, a slow smile crosses his face. It's not exactly apologetic, but it doesn't seem like an unkind or mocking smile, either. It's very.... Gaston. "It was just an accident, I guess." 

And then he leaves. An enigma. But still a gaffer. He never does apologize, so why now? 

Prunelle may not know for sure, but he does get a clue when he notices a red rose tucked in the pocket of his jacket that surely hadn't been there before. He takes it out and examines it thoughtfully-- doesn't sniff it because it'd just make him sneeze-- and then looks out the door Gaston left through. Prunelle can hardly believe it. " _M'enfin_ ," he says. 

An enigma indeed. 


	2. Jellybeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Léon Prunelle does not mix business with pleasure. But he might be convinced to eat jellybeans at his desk.

_Léon Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Jellybeans_

Prunelle is the kind of man who prefers to keep work and pleasure distinctly separate. At the office, he is all take charge, get things done, hold meetings and ensure that everything is going (relatively) smoothly. He does smile, but it isn't seen as much as everyone else's-- though that's mostly because of the stress.

It's really only after hours or on week-ends that he can be seen playing sports, listening to music, or enjoying nature. Some would be quite surprised to see how laid-back he can actually be when work and Gaston aren't busy stressing him out and pushing him rapidly toward going prematurely gray.

So it's a surprise to see him sitting at his desk, munching contentedly from a small brown bag as he studies one long and wordy paper after another. He seems pretty happy-- there's the faint sign of a smile on his lips, but it's clearer in his chocolate-brown eyes.

"What are you eating?" Lebrac asks, as he comes into the office to deliver a few illustrations.

"Ah?" Prunelle pauses, looks up from his work. "Jellybeans."

Lebrac sets the illustrations on Prunelle's desk and tips his head to one side. "You're eating _jellybeans?_ At _work?_ "

Prunelle chuckles. "Well, yes. Gaston gave them to me. They're just.... well, they're _addictive_."

Lebrac laughs. "Well, there are the _urgent_ illustrations you requested so _urgently_. Um, enjoy your jellybeans."

Prunelle waves him away in a playful mock dismissal. He can say what he wants. Léon Prunelle does not mix business with pleasure, even in such a very small way. He just enjoys jellybeans, and they were a gift from Gaston, so it really just seems right.

This is what he thinks as he pops another small handful into his mouth and starts to look over the illustrations. The jellybeans have so many flavors.... Rather like Gaston, actually. Sometimes he is lazy, and so frustrating. Sometimes he is selfish, and doesn't consider what other people think. But usually he is inventive and bright, looking for ways to improve what he sees as wrong with the world. Gaston thinks about nature, thinks about animal rights and human rights, about inventions that he imagines could do some good.

Gaston has a kind of after-hours side to him, too, and it makes Prunelle appreciate all those qualities he has about him, all those charming quirks and how wonderfully passionate he gets about the rights of other living things. When they aren't at work, he and Prunelle are usually together these days, and learning more and more about that other side each other has when they leave the Spirou office each evening. And, in truth, it's starting to affect the way they behave when they are at work.

It's starting to make Prunelle do things like eat jellybeans at his desk.


	3. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prunelle wakes up and takes a moment to consider his partner.

_Léon Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Waking Up_

Prunelle wakes up early, and Gaston does not. They have different habits, both at work and at home. It's kind of funny, they're such different people, but it's said that opposites attract, and they certainly seem to prove that.

Prunelle sits up sleepily and reaches for his glasses, takes them off the nightstand. His thick black hair is a mess, and his body is reluctant to be pulled out of the nice, warm bed. Next to him, there is a form, loudly snoring-- Gaston, of course.

With his glasses on, he turns and looks at the wild black hair on the pillow next to his-- so much of it that he can hardly see Gaston's face, except for that big nose and the goofy smile beneath it. Even asleep, he looks totally at ease with the whole world and everything in it.

Prunelle chuckles to himself at the sight. Silly thing-- how did Gaston ever manage to worm his way in with him this way, all cozy under his covers and satisfied with himself?

Gently, he leans down and presses a kiss into the mess of hair. However he managed, here they are. Totally mismatched, but totally happy together.


	4. The Editor and the Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU in four sentences. Probably one of Gaston's fantasies.

_Gaston Lagaffe & Léon Prunelle - The Editor and the Spy_

 

Prunelle turned away from Gaston in the other man's dangerous arms, having just discovered that he was the spy sent to seduce him, and steal the secrets of his organization, codenamed _"Spirou"_. The younger man's disguise as a lazy office boy had been so perfect, their romance so seemingly heartfelt, Prunelle never would have suspected.

He was sure that Gaston would now skewer him with his knife as he held him still, and he could only hope death would be quick.

Gaston looked into Prunelle's eyes for a moment, then suddenly threw the knife to the ground, along with his alliances to anyone who would hurt Prunelle-- and sealed his choice with a firm kiss.


	5. Having Faith in Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Prunelle is a female editor with no real interest in dating. But Gaston hopes to make her interested in him, at least.

_Léona Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Having Faith in Fools_

Léona Prunelle was a strong and outgoing woman, and worked hard to earn her position as editor-in-chief at the _"Spirou"_ magazine. She had never wanted or needed a man by her side. Oh, she'd tried dating here and there, but so far, if a relationship started to get too serious, her suitors would usually become distasteful of her position and her complete dedication to work. Usually it was just hints, but, once or twice, there's been the ultimatum, "work or me". And so she has remained single.

At least, until now she has. The change came after that well-known gaffer Gaston Lagaffe took an interest in his boss. He first made it known by leaving a bouquet of colorful wild flowers on her desk, signed _'an admirer'_ in a scrawled, sloppy handwriting that Prunelle knew all too well.

She ignored them; threw them away and didn't say a word about them. But Gaston either didn't realize she'd ignored them or didn't care, because he went right on trying to court her, and Prunelle was too puzzled at first to know just what to do about it.

The flowers were only the beginning-- next, Gaston left chocolates on her desk with a note identical to the first. Prunelle was rather torn about this gift, because those chocolates looked pretty tasty. Eventually, she decided to keep the gift and throw the note away, though this was probably counter-productive.... at least Gaston had not tried to make the chocolates by hand. They were actually really good.

After that, Gaston made a mail-sorting robot, which was apparently some kind of well-meaning gesture based on the fact that Prunelle had told him that it was the only kind of invention she had wanted to see him make. That had been in response to a previous dreadful mess of a machine he had wanted to show her, not an invitation. Of course, in the end, Gaston is Gaston, so how else was he going to take a statement like that?

"See? Just like you asked." Gaston said proudly.

"This is not at all like I asked." Prunelle said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, just give it a shot, anyway?" Gaston pressed hopefully. Without waiting for Prunelle's approval, he turned the infernal thing on.

She was almost impressed when it started to do its job correctly, but of course this did not last. Before long, it was devouring the mail and spitting out shreds that flew everywhere like confetti, and Prunelle was tugging at her hair and shrieking, " _Rogntudju!_ Shut it off, shut it off _now_ , Gaston!"

Gaston grabbed the machine and tried to switch it off, but it seemed to have developed a mind of its own at this point, as it grabbed him back with the skinny metallic arms it used for sorting.

Prunelle snatched off one of her heels, charged up heroically, and stopped it from trying to shred Gaston's jumper by beating it viciously with her shoe. With the metal monster dented and ruined, Gaston dislodged himself from its grasp and looked at the editor.

"I don't know what went wrong." He said, legitimately confused by his lack of success.

Prunelle sighed at length, and put her shoe back on. "I don't, either." She said curtly.

"Back to the old drawing board, I guess." Gaston said with a shrug. He fixed his jumper and sat back down at his desk. "Sorry about that, Prunelle. The next one will surely work."

Prunelle turned away toward the door. "Somehow," she said, "I doubt that.

\--

The next thing Gaston tried was leaving a poem on her desk that he had written himself. It, too, was signed _'an admirer' _and it too was thrown away-- but not before Prunelle had given it one quick read-over, and groaned out loud as he made three plays on her surname. Amazing how he managed to not only make an awkward attempt to compliment her eyes (twice), but also make a reference to the sour fruit by the same name. And compare her to said sour fruit.__

__After that, more flowers. These were strewn all over her office, and they set off her allergies. She spent the whole afternoon alternating between sneezing and cursing until she managed to sneeze, _"rogntudjuuu"_. She did this at least a dozen times._ _

__The final straw was the very forward recital of a song which, like his little poem, he had written himself. It was more or less the same as the poem, but with some of the lines switched around and more added, and set to something sort of resembling a tune. He sang this outside her apartment building while playing his old guitar._ _

__Prunelle shut the window. She had had enough of being courted._ _

__\--_ _

__The next day, she avoided Gaston-- at least, until that evening, after work. In front of the building, she approached him at last, stopping him before he could get to his car. She had a question of great importance for him._ _

__"Gaston, what are you doing?" She asked. "Why should you be interested in me?"_ _

__Gaston smiled his lazy smile and replied, "Well, why not? You're a beautiful lady, and you're really smart. I like you a lot, Prunelle."_ _

__Prunelle ran a hand through her long, unruly hair, exasperated. "That.... but Gaston, I just don't think a relationship is a good idea for me, what with work and all."_ _

__Gaston kept on smiling, and he took her free hand in both of his own much larger hands in a reassuring gesture. "I'm sure you can do both, Prunelle. You're a really capable person, y'know? I mean, if you really think you can't, that'd be one thing, but I know you can, so it shouldn't be a problem."_ _

__Prunelle couldn't help but laugh. What simple, steadfast logic! "Both, then?" She tried._ _

__"Of course," Gaston said, and he was still holding her hand. "No problem for the editor-in-chief, right? So what do you say?"_ _

__Prunelle took a moment to think it over, but the answer was pretty clear. Despite herself, she decided to have a little faith, and take a chance. "Alright, I'll give it a shot."_ _

__Gaston's whole face lit up. "Great! I promise you won't regret it. I'm gonna do everything I can to make you happy, okay?"_ _

__Prunelle gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm sure. Well, why don't you start with some of that _late mail,_ hmm?"_ _

__Gaston tipped his head to one side, and that wild hair of his scatters across his face. "Well, I'll try. But I'm not so sure I can handle work and a relationship the way you can." He says cleverly, his smile taking on a truly mischievous quality._ _

__Prunelle leaned close to his face, grinning meaningfully. "Well, you'd better learn, Lagaffe, because you just promised to make me happy."_ _

__Gaston straightened up his back, and for a moment, Prunelle was surprised at just how tall he was, when he wasn't slouching. He had to have several inches over her, easy. "I'll do my very best." He said. "But I won't make any more promises."_ _

__And Prunelle laughed, because she already had a feeling that somehow, her faith in this man is really going to pay off._ _


	6. Going the Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prunelle takes the lead with physical affection.

_Léon Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Going the Distance_

Not long after Prunelle and Gaston first become an item, Prunelle realizes something about Gaston that, while cute and charming, needs to change. The truth is, Gaston is pretty shy when it comes to getting particularly physical; when he was with Mademoiselle Jeanne (well, it wasn't quite a relationship proper, so _with_ was probably not the right word), Prunelle recalls, Gaston had never done anything more than kiss her on the cheek, and he only even did that with coaxing.

But now, Gaston is with Prunelle, who has no reservations about physical affection-- in fact, he wants a lot more. Gaston kisses Prunelle on the cheek, and it's very sweet, yes, but then afterward, Prunelle takes him by the shoulders and kisses him on the mouth, warm but not too hard because he knows his new beau isn't used to this yet.

At first, Gaston looks stunned. Then, he gets a big, lopsided grin and tells Prunelle that he is an incredible kisser. The bespectacled man has a sneaking suspicion that's the first time the silly fellow has ever had a kiss on the mouth, and, to tell the truth, he actually finds it adorable.

So Prunelle has to set the pace, move things forward physically. It's not so bad; actually, it's pretty fun, showing Gaston what he wants or needs from him and then having the younger man eagerly follow his example and, being as inventive as ever, go on to find surprising new ways to reciprocate. Prunelle will never find himself getting bored.


	7. The Ink Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaston has a most unusual gift for Prunelle....  
> It is a bit cracky.

Prunelle is sitting quite peacefully at his desk, working hard, occasionally popping a jelly bean into his mouth, when he is startled by his door slamming open and Gaston blowing in like a hurricane.

" _Rrrogntudju, Gaston!_ Prunelle cries.

"Hey, Prunelle, you'll never guess what I've got!" Gaston exclaims. He is holding up his hands, one cupped over the other.

Whatever he's got, it's small. And no, Prunelle can't guess what it is. But he hopes it isn't a mouse or a snail, because mice are nothing but trouble, and snails really freak him out, the slimy, awful little things.

Gaston steps up to the desk, not a care in the world, and deposits the thing on Prunelle's desk, his big hands making it impossible to see until, with a kind of Lagaffe flourish, he lifts his hands away with a great, _"Ta-da!"_

And standing there is a tiny replica of Prunelle, the shape and clothing just like his own, but ink black from head to toe. At first, he thinks it is an odd little figurine or something Gaston has had someone make for him, and he is just about to thank him when the tiny thing blinks at him, and adjusts its miniature glasses.

"Bonjour," the replica greets, nodding politely.

Prunelle nearly faints.

"Wh-- what is this?" The bespectacled man stammers, looking at Gaston.

"Well, be polite," Gaston chides, "he said 'b'jour'."

Prunelle blinks. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. Finally, he coughs and says, "bonjour."

The miniature nods again, and straightens the collar of a jacket Prunelle can scarcely see. Altogether, the tiny Prunelle looks like a silhouette, with only the white of its eyes distinct, and apparently somehow connected to the shape of its tiny glasses. Or maybe its glasses are its eyes. It's difficult to tell.

"To answer your question," Gaston says, "this is a living replica of you. A witch doctor made it. Cool, huh?"

Prunelle sighs heavily and runs his hand through his thick black hair. "A witch doctor." He echoes. "I'm guessing Franquin had something to do with this? Like those creepy shrunken heads?"

"Yup," Gaston says with a dopey smile. "He told me about the witch doctor, and I wanted to have this little guy made for you as a gift." He pauses, looks just a little sheepish, and adds, "that's why I pricked your finger last week. He needed a drop of your blood. Sorry about that."

"Macabre." Prunelle deadpans. Of course; it's weird enough for Franquin and outlandish enough for Gaston-- it's like the perfect marriage of their interests. Nevertheless, he looks back down at his alter and meets the tiny eyes. "And how do I take care of him?"

It isn't Gaston who answers, but the ink Prunelle. "You don't do much," he says, "I just need to be kept free of any debris. And given ink when I'm running low."

"Ink?" Prunelle repeats.

"Well, yeah, what did ya think he was made of?" Gaston asks; not in a condescending way, but in that oblivious Lagaffe way of his, as though all of his thoughts should be clear to everybody else-- especially Prunelle.

"Voodoo. And a drop of my blood." Prunelle replies dryly.

"Well, sure, there's those things, but mostly it's ink," Gaston says, nodding importantly. "Anyway, do you like him? At least he can keep you company."

Prunelle looks at the copy and starts to contemplate it. Truly, he has never seen anything like this tiny black creature, who is looking up at him with startlingly intelligent eyes. He must be something like ten centimetres tall, and he carries himself just the same way as Prunelle.

"He's, hem, very unique. Thank you, Gaston." The original Prunelle says at last, adjusting his glasses. "I'll take good care of him."

Gaston positively beams. "I knew you'd like him!" He says. Still grinning, he goes on, "well, I'll see you after work, and then you can tell me how you two are gettin' along. See you then." He gives Prunelle a peck on the cheek and then takes off, leaving Prunelle alone with his miniature doppelgänger.

They look at each other wordlessly. Prunelle isn't sure if he is supposed to start a converstation or something at this point, so he decides to get back to work instead. Within minutes, the ink Prunelle starts to assist him, and it's rather odd because he already seems to know exactly what to do, without being told.

Prunelle rather finds he likes this. He doesn't want to put too much thought into how the miniature is able to do his work or carry himself like he does or talk the way that he does, so instead he decides to just try and accept it for what it is and hope that this will be the one thing that doesn't explode or ruin a contract or generally make life more difficult.

\--

By the end of the workday, when Gaston comes to fetch the editor, they are getting along famously. The office boy can hear them taking when he comes in, the normal voice of Prunelle and the very quiet voice of his ink replica.

Gaston smiles as he pushes the door open and invites himself in. He'd just known they would like each other-- how could they not? They were practically the same person, right?

"Hey, you two." Gaston greets, waving lazily.

"Good evening," Prunelle says, and his miniature echoes him before he's finished saying the last syllable.

"Are you ready to go home?" Gaston asks.

Prunelle looks over his desk and stands up. He pushes his chair in and starts to approach Gaston, but then he hesitates, and looks back at his ink doppelgänger, who is watching him with those tiny, intelligent eyes.

"What about him?" Prunelle asks. "I shouldn't just leave him here, should I?"

"I'll be fine," The miniature answers politely. "Just as long as there won't be any cats or seagulls in here tonight, I can stay quite happily on the desk."

"Are you sure?" Prunelle presses, stepping back toward the desk. "There is more than enough room in my flat, and no pets."

Gaston rocks back onto his heels. "That reminds me, I need to get them some fish later." He looked at the ink Prunelle. "Don't worry about them messing with you, by the way, they wouldn't hurt a fly. Especially not a fly that's made of ink and such."

"Wouldn't hurt a fly, huh?" Prunelle echoes incredulously. Oh, sure, just tell that to all their victims. How many heads have been savagely pecked, and faces scratched? How many erasers have been stolen, pieces of furniture ruined, important papers torn to shreds?

The cat slips in next to Gaston, and rubs against his leg. The miniature Prunelle gives a yelp of fear, and the cat immediately focuses on it, pupils dilating dangerously. The troublesome feline stalks up, and hops onto the desk, lording over the tiny black creature with the obvious intent to turn him into a cat-toy. The ensuing splatter of ink would be a horrific sight indeed.

But Prunelle isn't about to let this happen. He rushes over and grabs the cat by the nape, drops it onto the floor. Then he picks up his alter and holds it protectively in both hands, up to his chest, where the tiny.

"Gaston, what is that, that _creature_ doing in here?" Prunelle snaps.

"He's looking for dinner," Gaston answers nonchalantly. "He didn't do any harm, see?"

Prunelle frowns, and the miniature Prunelle matches his expression perfectly. Gaston picks up the cat and starts to stroke its scruffy fur, and this is just too much for the double Prunelles to handle. They vent their frustrations in unison with an irrated: " _Rogntudju!_ "

Gaston just grins his big, silly grin, still petting the cat. "I knew yoI'd love 'im."


	8. I've Made Mistakes But You're Not One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prunelle is drunk. Gaston gets his first real opportunity to be a good boyfriend.

_Gaston Lagaffe & Léon Prunelle - I've Made Mistakes but You're Not One_

Gaston does not think he's ever seen Prunelle vulnerable. At least, not since that time he was hurt in a devastating accident involving a tomato-peeler, but this is different. Even the way he feels awful about it is different.

"Prunelle, you okay?" Gaston asks.

"Oh Gaston, I am just fiiiine," Prunelle answers, slurring a little.

The editor giggles, so unlike him, and leans heavily against Gaston. Also unlike him. His cheeks are a bit red and the smell of alcohol is enough to make the younger man wrinkle his nose.

He's been drinking. Gaston can't understand it.

"Prunelle, really," Gaston insists. "We're goin' home now, okay? C'mon, this way."

"Hooome is where the heart issss," Prunelle sings sloppily.

Gaston winces. He never wanted to hear that man's voice make sounds like that. He gets him with some difficulty into the Fiat, and has to push his leg in to keep it from getting hit by the door.

"But what would make you wanna drink?" Gaston wonders. It's a rhetorical question, but he asks it out loud anyway as he gets in next to Prunelle, wrinkling his nose again at the smell of beer.

Prunelle sighs heavily, and leans against Gaston's arm. "Oh Gaston, nothing ever goes my way." He mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

He rubs his face into the sleeve of the green jumper, pushing his glasses askew. Gaston honestly has no idea what to think right now, because he cannot believe Prunelle is drunk and he has no idea why he would go and do such a thing to himself.

Oh, it's true, Gaston and his friends have gotten quite a bit tipsy a few times off of his cousin Betrand's still. It was not a smart thing to do, but they always did have a tendancy to goof off, and they were pretty safe; none of them ever suffered anything more than a hangover. Prunelle isn't like that. He just seems unhappy. Maybe he was unhappy to begin with. Maybe that's why he got drunk.

Gaston wishes Prunelle had done it at home, though. He doesn't think bar is a good place for that, not really. Too easy to get into trouble. He's just glad that the editor remembered his number and could tell it to the bartender. He doesn't quite know why Prunelle didn't ask for a taxi instead, but he's honestly glad he chose him because now he can be there for him.

This is what it means to be a good boyfriend, he supposes.

Prunelle wraps his arms around Gaston's waist and starts to talk incoherently into his jumper. It's honestly a little hard to drive like this, but Gaston knows the way by heart, so that helps. It means he doesn't have to think about it as much.

It is getting quite late. Already, it's dark out, and all of Brussels is beautifully lit. The lights may be bothering Prunelle, though, since he turns his head away from Gaston and manages to say something about them before burying his face in his arm again. His glasses barely stay on.

"You really are in a bad way, aren't you?" Gaston asks. "My poor Prunelle. We'll be home soon."

Prunelle murmurs something like, "Good" into his sleeve. Then he stays mostly quiet for the rest of the fairly short ride home.

\--

Once they arrive at Prunelle's apartment building, Gaston gets out and helps Prunelle out after him, shutting the door behind them.

Then he holds on to the editor, letting him lean on him just as heavily as before, and guides him inside, up the stairs, to his floor. It's tough going, but Gaston doesn't complain. This is the sort of work he can deal with.

He gets him to his door only to realize he hasn't got a key. Thinking that he's definitely going to have to ask Prunelle to fix that later, he lightly touches Prunelle's pocket in the hopes that his keys will be there.

"Hmm, what're you doing, Gaston?" Prunelle purrs, his eyes a bit darker than usual.

"I need your keys, Prunelle," Gaston says.

"Ohh, got it." Prunelle smiles a sloppy, drunken smile and starts to fish around in his pockets. It takes him a moment, but he gets out his keys and hands them to Gaston, still smiling.

Gaston has to try several keys before he figures out the right one, and from there it's mostly smooth sailing as he lets them both in, locks the door back, takes Prunelle to his bedroom without being even slightly abashed about it.

Gaston guides Prunelle into a sitting position on the bed. Then he takes off his jacket and shoes for him, putting them aside for the editor to put away properly later. Prunelle watches him all the while, addled but attentive.

Gaston comes back over to Prunelle and considers whether he should unbutton or even take off his shirt to make him more comfortable. He decides he probably shouldn't, but the belt needs to go. So, carefully, he unfastens it, fumbling a little, and pulls it off of him.

Prunelle's cheeks redden, and he smiles in a strange way like Gaston has never seen him do before. Then he reaches up and takes Gaston by the shoulders before sinking back into the mattress, bringing the surprised office boy down with him. He spreads his legs out on either side of him, inviting.

"Mmm, that's it...." Prunelle hums. "C-come on, Gaston.... I want you...."

Gaston's mouth parts open in surprise. At first he doesn't know what to do, but then he puts his hands down on the mattress on either side of Prunelle. He tries to push himself up, but Prunelle clings to him, groaning in protest. He doesn't want him to go. He just wants to be satisfied. He has no idea how much that would hurt him later, when he's sober.

"No." Gaston says softly. "No, Prunelle."

Prunelle frowns. "But I want you to...." He protests, like a little kid.

Gaston kisses Prunelle gently. Prunelle relaxes, and Gaston takes this chance to push his arms off of himself. Then he stands up, getting off of that handsome, wonderful man.

Of course he wants to be with Prunelle, but not like this. This isn't how their first time together-- and, well, maybe not Prunelle's, but Gaston's first time ever-- is going to be.

"Why not?" Prunelle asks, sitting up with some effort.

Gaston smiles, and it's partly a hurt smile but more a comforting smile. It's the kind of smile that would rarely ever be seen on his face, but doesn't seem all that out of place on it.

"Because this is special, what we've got." Gaston answers, carefully taking off Prunelle's glasses. "I won't let it be just another thing you're gonna regret."

Prunelle looks surprised. He thinks this through, despite his muddled state. It would be a lot to take in if he were sober, but as it is, he still manages to come to a conclusion. On this, he asks, "Will you stay with me? Sleep here?"

Gaston nods. "Yeah. Scoot over."

Prunelle does, and after putting the editor's glasses on the bedside table, Gaston takes off his own shoes and belt and then lies down next to him. He wonders if he should have tried to get Prunelle to change clothes, but it doesn't seem like that would've been possible. And he wonders if he should have tried to get Prunelle to get him to tell him what's bothering him so bad he decided to drink over it, but he's sure that wouldn't help things right now. Maybe he'll ask tomorrow, when Prunelle is sober. Maybe he'll never ask at all. Maybe Prunelle will just tell him, and he won't have to.

So Gaston scoots a little closer to Prunelle, who nuzzles against him and closes his deep brown eyes with a soft hum.

"Goodnight, Prunelle," Gaston says, turning out the light.

"G'night, hmmm, Gaston...." Prunelle sighs.


	9. Find Your Rhythm, Move to the Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for a music drabble meme on Tumblr.

_Léon Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Find Your Rhythm, Move to the Beat_

 

"I have no rhythm at all," Prunelle protests, his hands on Gaston's chest. "This was a terrible idea."

"Oh hush," Gaston says, smiling, and taking both the editor's hands in his own. "You're doing fine. Just follow my lead, see? No problem."

One step, another, left foot, then right, forward, then to the side, then back again. The music sets the pace, an upbeat piece featuring a combination of the piano, bass, and trumpet. Gaston leads, surprisingly graceful for all his lankiness (and generally being Gaston), guiding Prunelle across the floor.

Gaston lets go of one of his hands, putting it on Prunelle's waist. This startles the bespectacled man, but not as much as the sudden dip that follows just moments later. He makes an undignified squeak as he's tipped back at the hips, scrabbling with his free hand to hold on to Gaston's back.

The messy-haired office boy laughs. His face is hovering over Prunelle's now, as he leans over him slightly, still holding him that way. Then he pulls him upright again, pressing his body tightly against his own with the hand still on his waist. Prunelle can feel the warmth of his belly through the fabric of their clothes.

"It's not so bad, see?" Gaston says, continuing the dance in this position. "It's fun, right?"

"That's one word for it," Prunelle replies, trying to catch his breath as he steps with Gaston in this new, more intimate position.

"Say, did you ever learn to dance?" Gaston asks. "Like, back in Spain?"

"Sure, but that was a long time ago," Prunelle says. "I've forgotten it all. I was just a kid at the time. I've only ever really danced with a few over-enthusiastic girls whom I couldn't sync with at all, and a few guys at.... erm, well, it doesn't matter. I'm no good at this."

"Ah, it's fine," Gaston says, "You just need to practice. But I think you're doin' fine."

Gaston changes the positions of his hands again, and leads Prunelle into still another mode of dance. This one is a little faster, and involves more movement from the upper body. It makes Prunelle laugh despite all his awkwardness.

"I'm never going to learn if you keep changing the dance," he says.

"Sure you are," Gaston replies. "Just follow my lead."

As silly as it seems to him, Prunelle does. And as he starts to loosen up, he finds he enjoys it more and more, and even if he doesn't quite get the rhythm, or if he ends up stumbling, he isn't really bothered by it. Even when the two of them end up sprawled on the floor three songs later. They just start laughing, and Prunelle takes advantage of his new position on top of Gaston to kiss him. Which ends up leading to another kind of dance entirely. ☆


End file.
